There was a ruined farm well out in the valley about 150 yards from the German line and approximately 400 yards from our lines. There had been several buildings in that location now mostly in ruins. What had been the dwelling house was still partly standing. The gable end toward our lines was still intact, but the opposite one had been blown down with the slate and tile roof sagging down on the upstairs floor. You could get in below, climb the rickety stair, getting in between the sagged tile roof and the standing gable, have a clear view of the enemy lines over a wide front. You had no real protection from rifle or machine gun fire but had good concealment and could look out between the slats and tiles of the sagged roof. Our O. C. wanted us to make frequent patrols to this place for fear Fritz might occupy it or fortify it with earth works making a strong point of it or a machine gun post to be later connected with his front line trench by saps constructed at night.
I wanted to study the enemy lines here, doing a bit of sketching, also trying to locate his machine gun and trench mortar positions, and try to get compass bearings and intersections on them where possible. Another scout by the name of Closett went with me one morning before day break and we reconnoitered the place eventually getting up under the sagged roof staying there all day as the valley was exposed, so any movement during daytime was sure to draw enemy fire. We took a bit of lunch and a bottle of water each. There had been a lot of live stock killed here laying all over in the enclosure around the buildings. Cows, pigs, horses , even dogs and cats and they also were all swollen up like balloons. The early April sun came out very hot and sultry beating down in that valley like a July day. Occasionally there would come a slight puff or breeze bringing the smells that we had to survive that day.
It was strong point alright. Directly in front at about150 yards was the enemy front trench. They had evidently tried to take the farm from the French sometime earlier. There in the hay field out front lay about 40 dead, lying in even rows on their faces like nine pins that had been knocked down in a bowling alley. They had full packs on their backs and were dressed in all the glory of the Prussian Army of 1914. Field grey from the tips of their toes to the top of the spikes on their helmets. They had dug a sap out some distance from the main trench using this as a jumping off point for the attack on the farm. Evidently the French had a concealed machine gun at the farm. There was about a dozen dead French out there also but somewhat closer to the farm house. How they met their fate I could not figure out, but there they lay in their spotless horizon blue uniforms. In the course of the afternoon one of our co. commanders got an idea in his bonnet to make a patrol working his way out there by following ditches shrubbery etc. taking about six men with him. I heard footsteps below on the gravel and broken tiles, and for a minute I did not know who it was. Closett took a sort of panic attack wanting to rush down and out with a lot of clatter which may have betrayed our presence. I had a job to hold him quit. A moment later I heard voices and I knew it was some of our men. I sat tight and let them away for I was not pleased with their stunt of exposing themselves and drawing the German’s attention to the farm. They were spotted alright and Fritz opened up with a splatter of rifle fire on them. They made off the way they had come and back to our lines.
When they got in they reported us two scouts as missing, believed captured, or killed. A lad from Kenora went down to hospital that day with a wound in his hand and while there wrote home about me going missing etc. My obituary came out in the home paper. I met the man that wrote it some months later up at Bulford Camp on the Messines Front. It was Billy Mitchell or (Slim Mitchell) and he still thought I was among the Angels.
We got down out of the loft about an hour after that patrol went back as it was sort of a trap up there with only one way of exiting and I was expecting a visit from Fritz for sure, now that the over-ambitious Capt. had advertised the farm. We had arranged for Corp. Gray and six men to come out that night after dark and relieve us acting as a listening post at the farm. Ten o’clock came and no patrol yet. I was just going to send Closett into our lines to see why, when I heard a noise in the orchard enclosure in front toward the enemy line. We had taken up a position in the rubbish at the centre of the farm court or enclosure flanked on three sides by the ruins. The whole place was enclosed by a thorn hedge with an orchard on the German side. Straight behind us was a gateway in the hedge. I could hear quite a large number of men moving about. They were whispering among themselves and finally started to encircle the hedge. I could hear them crawling outside the hedge in front and on both sides of us. I thought we had stayed long enough so poked Closett in the ribs and said go! We ran for the open gate behind, which was probably 50 yards away. There were broken tiles, brick, glass, and other rubbish under foot. We made quit a clatter as we broke cover. Before we got through the gateway fritz shot up a flare light from the orchard. We heard the putt and hiss of the flare going up and flopped flat, laying still until it burned out, when we were up running again. From the gate we ran about 80 yards to the left where there was a sort of embankment or terrace under a thorn hedge. We flopped behind this and peering through the hedge listened for awhile.
Then I happened to think about Corp. Gray and his six men. They might walk, unsuspecting right into the big German patrol, which I knew, must be at least 20 or 30 strong. I sent Closett back on the run and he was in time to intercept them just as they were coming out to look for us. They came out quietly to where I distributed them along the low side of the terrace. Orders were to start nothing rough but to make sure that the enemy did not attempt to fortify the farm. I went back to the lines soon for I had been out for over 18 hours and was tired, hungry, thirsty etc. The enemy patrol prowled about examining the place quietly and then made off without disturbing anything. I had often thought that if our officers had hurried a big patrol out, there working in from a flank quickly, they might have captured the lot.
In addition to all the dead cattle and pigs in that valley there were two or three live hogs roving about. We saw a huge white one mooching along at the front of the enemy trench at the edge of the woods one morning. Fred Barker shot it. We had found evidence while we were out on patrol, that these hogs were living off the bodies of the dead.
One morning after being on night patrol and feeling the need of a sleep we crawled out a few feet back of the breast’works and lay in the sun for a nap on a smooth patch of the hard baked clay. I think it was Corp. Gray and myself along with a couple of others. This spot must have been visible to an observer on the higher ridge back of the German lines for we were rudely awakened by a couple of small shells bursting right alongside us. I could reach over and touch the edge of the nearest hole. The shells were too small and slow traveling to be whiz bangs, nor they did not seem like trench mortars.
The little Cockney Batman before mentioned developed a sort of ghoulish tendency while we were in this part of the front. He started to pry teeth from the skulls of the enemy dead and collect other beautiful trinkets which he kept for souvenirs. I suppose his officer had to carry them too when they marched.
Things remained quiet here during are stay in Death Valley, and there were no outstanding events that I can recall now. I don’t know what unit held this part of the line when the big German drive started for Calais a week later. They must have had an unpleasant time unless there were new trenches dug further back during the intervening week before the big smash. The warm spring weather was rapidly ripening things on that valley. From that place we were moved to the left marching up the line again through St. Jean and St. Julien, then finally on down a long gentle slope to the bottom of another valley. Here again the ground was too wet for trenches and breast’works had been built instead.
St. Julien
The breast’work on our battalion frontage was not continuous but was built in sections with spaces in between that were innocent of any defense. In going from one section to another you hurried across the open. On our right there was a gap in the line 500 yards wide very low, and wet with a small stream in the centre. This stream had a fringe of polled willow stumps and small scrub along its course. On our left the line swung back a bit and formed a sort of re-entrant. There was a battalion of Canadian Kilties holding this sector. I think it was the 5th Battalion on our right at the far side of the 500 yard gap. The breast’works here were in better